


Call The Tune

by meguri_aite



Category: Hikaru no Go
Genre: Alternate Universe, Drabble, Gen, M/M, prompt meme
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-18
Updated: 2015-01-18
Packaged: 2018-03-08 02:52:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3192530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meguri_aite/pseuds/meguri_aite
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>written for tumblr meme for <a href="http://made-of-coffee.tumblr.com">made-of-coffee</a>'s prompt, "we’re strangers but i absolutely hate your music taste and i feel the need to tell you this on a crowded subway au" </p><p> <i>“What would someone who voluntarily listens to the sound of cars crushing into each other know anything about classics?” Touya hissed through his teeth.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Call The Tune

“This is _not_ music. This is _noise_.”

The vehemence of his own statement took Touya by surprise, almost enough to make him want to apologize for the outbreak. But he didn’t, because his head was throbbing after hours of practice, because of the stifling hot air on the train, the crowd that seemed to breathe right onto his neck, and most of all, the annoying blaring from the headphones that threatened to cause an internal bleeding in his ears.

Touya frowned at the garish yellow plastic of the headphones, which would have clashed with anything a normal person would wear, but looked weirdly fitting on parakeet-bright clothes of the person in front of him. Their owner was standing too close to Touya for comfort – as was everyone else on the train, to be fair, but they didn’t seem as irritating – and nodding to the godawful beat with his eyes closed, seemingly deaf and blind to the world.

“If your ears are numb from dry repetition of the classics, maybe.”

Apparently, not that deaf, thought Touya distantly, as the stranger’s eyes, now wide and alert, looked directly at him. Touya’s second impulse to apologize died down even quicker than the first one, squashed by a sudden intense desire not to let the boy have the upper hand.

“What would someone who voluntarily listens to the sound of cars crushing into each other know anything about classics?” he hissed through his teeth.

“Enough not to sound like a sixty-year-old fossil at concerts.”

Touya inhaled deeply to retort that he was not, in fact, sixty, when the rest of the sentence caught up with him.

“What do you mean?” he narrowed his eyes.

“What I said.” The other boy rolled his eyes emphatically, and feeling like it wasn’t enough, wriggled his hand from where it was squeezed against some other stranger to poke his finger into Touya’s chest. “The last concert you gave was awfully soulless.”

Touya felt pinned under the sharp jabs, pinned and put to a close scrutiny by someone who by all means shouldn’t have the first clue about the world of koto, let alone recognize him in the subway.

“Who are you?” he demanded. There weren’t that many koto players around, even fewer of those who had anything but the highest praise to say to the son and best disciple of Touya Kouyo, the head of the most respected house of koto players.

The boy smiled at that, a brittle smile that didn’t belong with his appearance.

“You don’t know me yet, but soon you will. I’m Shindou Hikaru, and I will play the koto like my teacher taught me.”


End file.
